


The Three Mr. Allens

by der_tanzer



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-29
Updated: 2010-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-09 19:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cody is sick and Murray has a lot of hard decisions to make regarding how much truth to tell, and who to tell it to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Three Mr. Allens

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ smallfandomfest.  
> 

Murray was pacing in the waiting room, knowing that he needed to call Nick and not wanting to until he had more information. Nick was up in Oregon flying firefighters in and out of a wildfire, and even if he could reach him, what would he say? _Cody's sick, but I don't know how bad it is and I can't tell you anything_? That would go over great. Nick almost certainly couldn't come home, and what good would it do to make him worry when he was flying in a fire zone? But if Cody was seriously ill, Nick would need to be here. Murray chewed his thumbnail and went on pacing.

***

"Are you Mr. Allen's brother?"

Murray spun around and clenched his fists, both to hide his bitten nails and to keep from grabbing her sleeve.

"Yes. Is he all right? Can I see him?"

"Not yet. They're still trying to get his temperature down, so it'll be a little while. I noticed on his admission form that you didn't fill in the date of his last tetanus shot. Do you know when it might have been?"

Murray was so scared, he very nearly said _not since I've known him_. He bit his tongue and took a deep breath.

"I don't know. It's been a few years. Is that what's wrong? Does he have tetanus?"

"We're still looking at possibilities. Do you know who his regular doctor is? Someone who might have more information?"

"Um, yes. Dr. Reynolds over at Physician's Medical Center. Please, can you tell me anything at all? Our other brother is out of town and I'm trying to decide it I should call him back. I shouldn't unless it's serious, but if it is, I need to call soon."

"Well, I'm afraid it _is_ rather serious, Mr. Allen," she said slowly. For a moment Murray was confused, and then it clicked. If he was Cody's brother, then his name was Allen, too. He'd have to remember to tell Nick. "He has a very serious infection. Staph, maybe, or strep. It appears to have started in his right foot, maybe he stepped on a nail or something, and it's advanced well past his knee."

"Yes, a nail," Murray said. "It was last week. We were working on the boat, doing some repairs on deck, and he stepped on a nail. It went right through his shoe. I told him to have it looked at and get a tetanus shot, but he said we didn't have time. He poured hydrogen peroxide in it and bandaged it up. I kept asking, but he just kept saying it was all right. At least until he passed out this evening."

"He really should have come in that day," she agreed, shaking her head. "You said you have a boat?"

"Yes, we live on it, down in the harbor. I tried to tell him, he just wouldn't listen." Murray took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, thinking again of Nick. He wasn't due back for eight days and Cody's foot had seemed to be healing when he left. Murray knew he had to call, and he also knew he'd be getting the blame for not making Cody take care of it sooner.

"The water down there is filthy. It looks clean enough, but with all those live-aboards, it's a really giant petri dish."

Murray nodded and put his glasses back on.

"I'd really like to see him if I could. Before I call our brother. If I can't say I saw it for myself, he won't accept it."

"All right, Mr. Allen. I have to get a call in to Dr. Reynolds, and then I'll see what I can do."

Murray nodded again and chewed the nail of his ring finger as she walked away. Then he resumed pacing. Suddenly he really didn't want to call Nick. Maybe Cody would get better fast enough that he wouldn't have to. If he waited until tomorrow and Cody improved drastically overnight, Nick would never have to know how bad it was. Or that Cody had refused to see a doctor and Murray had let him get away with it in spite of the fever and vomiting.

Murray had let Cody get away with it until he passed out trying to climb the stairs up to the salon. Murray called an ambulance then and hated himself for not doing it sooner. If he had, Cody would almost certainly have caved and gone along. But Murray didn't want to make him angry, he hated to be the bad guy, and now his friend was paying the price.

***

The nurse came back half an hour later and told Murray that he could see his brother for just a few minutes. Murray wished he hadn't been biting his nails. The guys were always after him about that—especially Cody. But when he got there, he realized that Cody wasn't in any condition to notice Murray's hands or anything else. He was barely conscious, his face paper-white and drenched with sweat, and Murray couldn't help touching his neck, feeling for a pulse. It was weak and thready, barely there. Two hours of intense care and he was still in shock. Cold packs were tucked up against his side and under his neck, two IVs poured fluid into his forearm, and a central line ran under his collarbone, pumping antibiotics directly into an artery. That scared Murray a lot worse than Cody's wan pallor or even the quantity of sweat he was producing. To go right for the artery meant they using an antibiotic so strong that it would damage the smaller veins. It meant they were seriously fighting for his life.

"Cody? Can you hear me?" he whispered, wiping the sweat from Cody's face with his hand. His friend moaned, blue eyes fluttering half-open as he tried to move away from Murray's body heat. "Sorry. I guess you don't need to be any warmer. Hold on a second." He got some paper towels and soaked them in cold water, rung them out, and washed Cody's face tenderly. That earned him a less fretful moan and he took heart.

"Cody, it's going to be okay. The doctors are taking good care of you and I'm going to stay right here."

"Nick?" he groaned. "Where's Nick?"

"Nick's in Oregon, remember? I—I'm going to call him pretty soon. I'm sure he'll come. Don't you worry."

"Murray?" he sighed. "Murray, where's Nick?"

"He—he's in Oregon with the Guard. It's going to be okay." Murray wet the towels again and went on bathing him. But he was very scared. The monitors told him that his friend was in bad shape and there was nothing he could do. Maybe nothing the doctors could do. If they had already brought out the big guns and Cody still looked this awful—well, he hated to think about it.

"Is he coming? Murray, I need him."

"I know. He'll be here, Cody. I'll call him real soon, okay? I just want to be here with you for a few more minutes."

"Oh. Oh, good. Don't leave me." He closed his eyes and faded out as Murray wiped his forehead.

"I won't leave," Murray said, but he couldn't keep his word. The monitors started beeping and suddenly the little cubicle was full of people. As the patient's brother, he could have insisted on staying, and a part of him badly wanted to. But he didn't. He had to call Nick.

There was a payphone in the waiting room and Murray used his credit card to call the emergency number Nick had given them. It connected him with a barracks in Eastern Oregon where a man who identified himself as Major Dawes was not amused to be woken at one in the morning.

"I'm sorry, Major," he said, then decided that apologetic wasn't the way to go. "This is Colonel Murray Bozinsky. I need to speak to Lieutenant Ryder right away."

"Sir, the lieutenant's been flying for eighteen hours straight and he's going up again in four hours."

"I understand, Major. But there's an emergency with his family and he needs to come home. His brother is very ill."

"How ill?"

Murray heard the uncertainty in his voice and pressed it.

"He might not make it through the night. I need to tell Lieutenant Ryder myself, though."

"Right. Hold on, Colonel. I'll get him."

Murray cleared his throat, rubbed his eyes and tried to organize his thoughts. He badly didn't want to tell Nick that Cody might not be here in the morning, but he knew he might have to in order to get him here in time. _God, in time_, he thought miserably. As if Cody wouldn't always be here.

"Colonel?" came Nick's voice, sleepy and scared but trying to sound official.

"Nick, you need to get home as fast as you can," Murray said quickly. "Cody's really sick. Remember last week when he stepped on that nail? I never could get him to the doctor and now he has some kind of massive infection. We're at the hospital and—and he's asking for you, and I'm scared."

"Wait, Mur—Colonel, slow down. What happened to Cody?" He spoke the name freely, having told everyone that had such a brother so he could speak sometimes about his best friend without giving too much away.

"He has an infection. We're in the emergency room at King Harbor General and he—he's really sick. When I left him a minute ago, his temperature was a hundred and four."

"_What_?"

"Point nine. His blood pressure's really low, sixty over forty, and he's not exactly lucid. He keeps forgetting where you are and asking me to get you. Please, you have to come. I told your major, and the doctors, that he's your brother. Oh, and so am I, so they'll let me see him."

"Good, good," Nick said, his mind already on the journey home. "I'll be there as soon as I can. The fire's under control—they were just going to keep us for the cleanup. I'll—I'll talk to the major. You go sit with him, okay? Tell him I'm coming."

"I will. Just get here, Nick."

"I'm on my way. You get in there and tell him to hang on. Tell him I'm on my way."

"Okay. But be careful, Nick."

"Don't worry about me. Just stay with Cody. Tell him—tell him I'm coming." His voice broke and Murray's heart broke for him.

Nick hung up without saying goodbye.

***

Murray didn't wait for the nurse to come for him this time. As soon as he was off the phone, he went back to Cody's curtained off room and slipped inside. There was a nurse there bathing Cody's chest and neck with alcohol, her face a mask of professional indifference. Murray's eyes went to the monitor and read Cody's temperature as one hundred and four point three. So that was something.

"Can I help?" he asked quietly.

"Well, we don't usually allow family to supply medical care, but we're a little understaffed tonight. You can do his chest and I'll take his legs. Just like this, see? Add a little alcohol so the cloth stays cold and wipe in circles, like this."

Murray was familiar with the technique, he had been prone to fevers as a child, but he was reassured by the soothing competence of her words. She lifted Cody's gown, positioning it carefully so that it overlapped where the top was folded down, leaving only his groin covered. She ran her alcohol soaked cloth up and down his legs, avoiding the angry red skin that marked his infection, and Cody stirred, moaning half-conscious relief.

"Is he going to be all right?" Murray asked, knowing it was stupid but needing to say something.

"I hope so. He's fighting and he's strong. If we can start the infection retreating, he'll beat it."

"Does the doctor know what it is yet?"

"Strep. The lab report came in just a few minutes ago. It's amazing what you can pick up in the water around here."

"Yes, it's a regular petri dish," Murray agreed, but he was thinking, _Hurry up, Nick. He won't get better until you're here._

***

An Army helicopter flew Nick to Bend, where he boarded a plane for LA. It was all handled very quickly, with military precision and efficiency, designed to get Nick home to his dying brother without allowing him to fly or drive himself. Lieutenant Quinlan met him at the LA airport in a squad car and drove him to King Harbor at ninety miles an hour, with lights and sirens all the way.

"How come you're not with Murray?" Nick asked when he got in the car.

"He doesn't need me. You do."

"Is—is it that bad, then?"

"I'll level with you, Ryder. It ain't good. I been helping out some this past week while Murray took care of him and he's in bad shape. Shoulda been in the hospital days ago, but we couldn't make him go."

"That's Cody. He never has been able to admit when he was sick. But he'll be fine, right? They're taking care of him now. Murray's there, and I will be in about ten minutes at this rate."

"I'm doing my best," Quinlan said, laying on the horn and swerving onto the freeway shoulder to get around a car doing fifty in the far left lane.

"Were you there tonight? Did you see him?"

"For a few minutes. I drove Murray over when they wouldn't let him ride in the ambulance, and then I got called away for a domestic downtown. Only just got away in time to come after you."

"Thanks," he said shortly, but Quinlan could tell he meant it. They didn't speak again for the rest of the trip.

***

Cody was in intensive care when they arrived, Murray by his side, turning and freshening the cold cloth on his forehead. His fever hadn't dropped and his skin was still dead white.

"One at a time in ICU," the nurse said gently. "And you're lucky to get that much in the middle of the night."

"Yes, ma'am," Murray said, rising from his seat. "Nick, I'll be right outside." He touched Cody's arm lightly, squeezed Nick's shoulder, and left the room. Ted was waiting in the hall outside ICU and they went in search of chairs together.

"Hey, Cody," Nick whispered, sitting down beside him. "I came as soon as I could. Murray says we're brothers, so that's something to keep in mind. Baby, I sure wish you'd wake up and talk to me. Just give me some kind of sign that you can hear me. Murray said you were talking before, that you were asking for me, and—and I sure wish you'd say something now."

There was no response. Nick turned the cloth on Cody's forehead and stroked his cheek in the same motion. He saw the same things on the monitors that Murray had, but the numbers meant a lot less to him. Cody's rock-bottom blood pressure and sky-high temperature worried him, but he wasn't terrified, as Murray had been. His only real clue was the haste with which he'd been delivered, and right now he wasn't thinking about that.

Nick sat and caressed his sweat-soaked lover until dawn.

***

The doctor came by on his morning rounds and determined that the infection was retreating. They'd used a felt pen in the ER to draw an outline of the inflammation pattern, and there was a slim margin of white skin now between the black ink and the red stain. But his temperature hadn't dropped by more than half a degree and his pressure was still down. Nick chose to ignore that last and focus on the shrinking redness.

He went down to the cafeteria for breakfast when the nurses chased him out, collecting Murray and Ted along the way. They'd been sleeping in the waiting room, Quinlan slumped down at one end of the cheap vinyl sofa, Murray stretched out with his head on Ted's thigh. Murray was scared when Nick woke him, but Ted's face was all resignation. He hadn't been expecting anything good.

"How is he?" Murray asked, sitting up and feeling for his glasses. Ted pulled them out of his shirt pocket and slipped them into Murray's questing hand.

"A little better," Nick said. "You guys hungry?"

They weren't, but they went anyway.

***

Murray went in to see Cody after breakfast, needing to see for himself that his friend wasn't any worse. Then he returned to the waiting room and sat there all alone. Quinlan had to go to work, but Murray didn't want to leave. Not until he saw Cody's vital signs improve tremendously.

Nick resumed his station by the bed, bathing Cody's face and talking to him non-stop about good times that they'd had and adventures that awaited. He talked about bar fights they'd started, colonels they'd arrested in the MPs, five foot sturgeons they'd wrestled, and weekends they'd spent in bed. Not all of the talk was brotherly, but Nick was careful not to be overheard. He reminded Cody of car chases, of the time Murray's electronics overwhelmed the _Mimi_ and forced them to land on Santana's patio, and the night they spent huddled together in a mud hole in the jungle, sheltering each other from the rain and enemy fire. The night they first realized they were in love.

"That's what it's all about, man," he said softly. "That's what it's always been, right? I love you. I love you so fucking much, and I'm so sorry I wasn't here. If I had been, you'd be better by now. You might be able to bullshit Murray when you're sick, but you never would have got by me. Man, if I'd been here… But I'm here now, and you're gonna get better. I love you, baby, and you're gonna get well."

Nick looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching and leaned down to kiss Cody on the forehead. Then he settled back, picked up the pale hand and began talking again.

The next time he spoke words of love, Cody opened his eyes.


End file.
